


A Knight Until Morning

by misura



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-27 13:56:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17768066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: "I have no desire to go to my wedding bed a virgin,"the king had said, and Rolf, in a moment of great daring had opened his stupid gob to volunteer, as if the greenest recruit didn't know better than to ever volunteer for anything, and now here they were.





	A Knight Until Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HotUtilitarian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotUtilitarian/gifts).



_"I have no desire to go to my wedding bed a virgin,"_ the king had said, and Rolf, in a moment of great daring had opened his stupid gob to volunteer, as if the greenest recruit didn't know better than to ever volunteer for anything, and now here they were.

Of course, if Rolf hadn't volunteered, he'd be all alone by now, wishing a slow and painful death on whomever _was_ here, so from that point of view, he really hadn't had any other choice.

He had to deflower his king, the object of every single sexual fantasy Rolf'd had since he'd turned thirty and realized that while he enjoyed sex with women and rather loved the idea of becoming a father one day (even, gods willing, a granddad), he also rather enjoyed sex with men. In fact, he rather enjoyed it a lot.

For a short while, he'd acquired a bit of a reputation, which had been embarrassing, but then he'd had the good fortune to receive an offer of marriage from a lady looking to become respectably married and a mother, but without a husband continuously expecting her availability in the marriage bed.

"Sir Rolf?" the king asked. He sounded nervous. He _looked_ \- well, Rolf's sexual fantasies had had nothing on reality.

No lean, muscled body that was all hard angles, no; the king's body was that of a man who had other people to protect him, such as Rolf. Not _fat_ , by any means. Pleasantly soft and chubby, more like. Even, dared Rolf think it, cuddly. The mere thought of feeling it against his own, of putting his hands on all that softness made him half-hard already.

"My apologies, sire." Rolf felt himself flush. "I was ... distracted for a moment."

The king smiled a wry smile. "Take your time. There's no rush."

"Definitely not," Rolf said, a bit shocked at the very idea. True, when he'd been younger, he'd had a few fantasies about quick and frantic couplings in the stables, or the dungeons, or some other place where the risk of discovery necessitated speed.

Now, though, he appreciated the comfort of beds. Of time. Of lovers who were soft and smelled nice.

"I remember when you first came to the castle," the king said. "You looked very handsome."

Rolf remembered, too. He'd felt very proud of his shiny new armor and his temperamental new horse, and then he'd promptly fallen off of it. It had required three burly guards to get him back on his feet, and his armor had never quite looked the same. (One of his few fantasies not involving the king involved said three guards, receiving a proper thanks for their aid.)

"And now, sire?" he asked.

The king sighed. "Now, I realize that when one is young, one's fantasies are young as well, which is to say: foolish, as often as not. I desired you, I dreamt of you, but I did not dare say anything to you about either, and so my desires and dreams remained merely that."

Rolf swallowed. To think that his hopeless fantasies had not been so hopeless after all - well.

All too late now, alas. This one night would be all the two of them would ever get, and probably, he should be getting on with making the most of it, rather than losing himself in more daydreams of what might have been.

"I love you, sire!" he blurted out. "Always have. Since that first day."

The king might have looked sad for a moment. Rolf felt a stab of guilt. "Is that why you fell off your horse?"

Rolf was tempted to say 'yes'. Honesty compelled him to shake his head. "That was just me being an idiot. Can I - may I kiss you, sire? I would very much like that."

"Sir Rolf, I entrust myself entirely to your hands," the king said solemnly.

Rolf felt his mouth go dry. If he'd been standing, he might have felt his knees go weak or give way entirely. It was too much, really it was. Too much responsibility, too much pressure. He wasn't ready and he wasn't worthy. He was going to muck it all up and ruin everything.

"You have done this before, haven't you?" the king asked, sounding a bit worried.

"Many times, sire," Rolf said. "Well, some times," he amended. He wanted to sound reassuring, experienced, but not too experienced. "Never with you, though," he added. "Sire."

Somehow, that made all the difference. That was love, Rolf supposed. Love made everything more difficult and complicated. It was a terrible thing, and rather unfair, but there you were.

"You've thought about it though, haven't you?" the king suggested. "You've had fantasies? Were we in this room? This bed?"

"Yes, sire," Rolf said. He realized that he'd closed his eyes, trying to imagine that this wasn't real, that this was, actually, a fantasy. The sheets were soft, but cool, and the king's body (which wasn't really the king's, of course; that was just a fantasy) was soft and warm, and Rolf kissed him blindly, or tried to, anyway - he'd misjudged the distance, so his mouth ended up somewhere near the king's throat, his nose bumping into the king's chin.

The king chuckled, and Rolf supposed that it _was_ a bit funny and silly, at that, so he opened his eyes and tried again, managing to make it a proper kiss this time, with a bit of tongue, even.

He'd resolved to take things slow, but, on the other hand, they had a whole night, which meant time for naps in between, so as he leaned in for another kiss, he simultaneously reached for the royal cock.

It seemed to fit his hand quite nicely, jerking a little as he started to stroke it, slowly at first, getting a feel for it. The king groaned into Rolf's mouth, pressing their bodies closer together.

Rolf moved his hand a little faster, torn between wanting to keep kissing the king and wanting to see the king's face as Rolf made him come. He compromised in the end, more or less, replacing his hand with his mouth, reasoning that he might as well get two fantasies-turned-reality out of the way.

The king mumbled what might have been Rolf's name as he came, which was another fantasy fulfilled and, Rolf hoped, a sign that he wasn't doing too poorly.

He'd planned to cuddle for a bit before moving on to the actual deflowering business, but the king seemed to have different ideas, reaching for Rolf's cock with the clear intention of returning the favor, and Rolf let him, coming with a speed that was frankly embarrassing but then, he reassured himself, he'd do better next time, and, better still the time after that one, assuming there would be one.


End file.
